This is my story, you like, da?
by Russia-Ivan
Summary: Privet I am Russia! Well it is not really just one story...maybe it will be many, I do not really know. It kind of depends if people want to hear more about my life. Well you should definately learn more about me if you are going to become one with me some day, da? This is in English because not everyone on Fanfiction can read Russian...which is kind of sad, but ok.
1. Chapter 1

Privet! I am Russia! But I guess you can call me Ivan. Well I joined Fanfiction after a friend urged me, and so far it is quite interesting. But I supposed it is more

fun when you actually write, da? So I guess I will write. I have some interesting stories that you may or may not like, it kind of depends. Like the time I shoved

France into a wall, that was hilarious! But none of the other countries seemed to think it was funny except for Britain. Well this first one is about the time when

America and Britain got into a fight over hamburgers and scones. Word of advice, do not under any circumstances try one of Britain's scones, they are deadly.

* * *

It was a Tuesday afternoon. The weather was fair, well, fairer than my home is in the fall. Many people probably do not know, but the countries all meet in

Manhattan, New York, a state in America. It is kind of sad because I would definitely love everyone to come to my house some time, it will make it easier for

everyone to become one with me! Oh well, everyone says no anyway.

.

As I walked into the meeting room, already most of the European countries had gathered. Out of the Asian countries, China and the Korea's were there. The

rest had not shown up yet, probably still asleep in their hotel rooms. At the front of the room was America, shuffling some papers. I could have sworn I saw a

drawing of a superhero on one of the pages. America is so childish, but I guess I will admit he is a formidable rival.

.

"G-Good morning, Russia. H-How are y-you?" Lithuania spoke up as I walked over to my seat.

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"Ah, dobroye utro (pronounced doo-bro-ye, oo-tra), Lithuania! I am very good, spasibo! (pronounced spa-see-bah)" I smiled and took my seat. "And you?"

.

"I've had better days," He managed to say without trembling. Is he scared of me or something?

.

"No, dude, hamburgers are totally better than scones any day!" America shouted from the front of the room. He banged his fist on the table, which caused

several of the other nations to jump slightly. It did not startle me though.

.

"You git! Just because that batch of scones did not turn out-" Britain got cut off by America, who raised his hand and shook his head.

.

"Dude, any batch of scones you make, they suck." And that kind of made Britain's face turn red like a beet.

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"Why in the hell are you two dummkopfs (how you spell, da?) fighting over food?" Germany strode over to America and Britain, who had both paused in their

childish argument for a moment to stare at Germany.

.

"Not just any food, Britain insulted my burgers!" America proclaimed very loudly. I had to fight the urge to cover my ears; it would have made me look weak,

and I do not like being weak. You understand, da?

.

"And him, my scones!" Britain retaliated angrily, his face changed to blood red. Not really a color that suits him properly if I do say so myself.

.

"Dare I ask why you even brought up food in the first place? Never mind, don't tell me." Germany added as the other two opened their mouths to reply. At

this point I got up from my seat and walked to the front of the room.

.

"How about both scones and hamburgers are bad, da? Can you both shut up now and sit down?" I realized that this was a big mistake as both America and

Britain glared daggers at me. However, I just smiled at them and they both fidgeted nervously, averting their gazes and mumbling, "Yeah, whatever." And

then America, because he is an idiot, had to say, "But my hamburgers are _so_ much better than your scones."

.

"Those scones were a recipe passed down to me by my mumsy!" Britain growled and he wrapped his hands around America's neck with the intent (I believe)

of choking America to death. I would have helped him if my boss had not told me to try to make some peace with America, and not stir up any trouble.

.

"Scones!

.

"Burgers!"

.

"Scones!"

.

"Burgers!

.

"Scones!"

.

"Pasta!" Italy stood up and waved his hands in the air happily.

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"Sit down, idiot!" Romano forced Italy back into his seat most unceremoniously. I just closed my eyes and shook my head. For what seemed to be the

hundredth time, the meeting was going to end in complete and utter chaos.

.

And so anyways, America and Britain went on like that, the whole "Scones", "Burgers", thing for a little over an hour, and my headache was getting

increasingly prominent. I really just wanted to snap, but that was everyone's job but mine. Then the most interesting thing happened. Canada walked in

holding a bag that had a giant letter M on it, and his other hand held a scone. Nobody even noticed him walking in, except France of course. The look on his face was, well,

interesting...let us just leave it at that.

.

"Ok, America, here's the test!" Canada shouted, or attempted to shout. His voice hardly raised above a normal level. I must wonder, why does that cute little

Canadian talk so softly? He is nothing like his brother at all.

.

"Dude, where did you come from?" America asked and pryed Britain's hands off of his throat almost effortlessly. Da, America was being strangled by Britain for almost an

hour. Please do not ask me how he survived...because I seriously do not know.

.

"McDonald's...and Britain's room," Canada "shouted". He then shoved the bag towards Britain and the scone towards America. "Eat them." Both America and Britain were

quite stunned. I do not think they have ever been ordered around by Canada before, which I must say I think I gained a little bit of respect towards the North American

country. A little bit.

.

Both of them kind of reluctantly bit into the food. America spat out the scone almost immediately and Britain the burger. And Canada was just standing there with a smug

expression on his face. I have honestly never seen that side of Canada before!

.

"Disgusting," America muttered and threw the scone in the garbage, which was immediately followed by the burger.

.

"Horrible." Britain took a long drink from his water bottle. Probably to wash the taste out of his mouth, da?

.

"Pasta!" For the second time that annoying Italian stood up in his seat and shouted about pasta. Honestly there's more to life than just pasta. Piroshki and Vodka for example

^.^ Oh you should definately try Tula Gingerbread. Now that stuff is good.

.

The funny part was, both America and Britain agreed that pasta sounded a lot better than burgers or scones (which was saying a lot in America's case). Germany adjourned

the meeting, everyone went home, and to my surprise I was invited out for pasta at this (surprisingly good) Italian restaurant that was in the area. Italy is so nice

sometimes! ^.^ So he, America, Britain, France (I do not really know how he got invited), Romano, Spain, and I all went out for pasta. The end. :-) Did you like? I you would

like I can tell you all more. So much stuff has happened in my life, if you just say one word I can easily turn it into a story that happened to me once. Would you like me to?


	2. Chapter 2

Ah Privet again! I am updating from an hour long break. Meetings can be very long and tedious...especially when a

certain Italian does not know how to shut up. It was 'pasta this' and ' pasta that'...and then he jumped up onto the

table singing something in Italian. It was amusing and all, but we really did not get much done at all today. We are

supposed to be talking about the issues with oil next, but I am not so certain that the middle eastern countries will

like my ideas very much. It kind of has to do with them becoming one with me and then I share the oil with the rest

of the world. You like that idea, da? Well anyways on the topic of Italy, I suppose I will share one of my favorite

WWII stories with you! Oh da, it has to do with Italy of course. Some of you may find this story a bit familiar, seeing

as it was aired on Hetalia...but none of you know what happened afterwards.

.

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Some of my military had informed me that Italy and Germany were spotted on my western border, so I went out to

go investigate. However I could not leave without my tank. It was brand new and it was my baby at the time. ^.^

It did not take me too long to find the two idioty(idiots), for Italy was literally standing right out in the open with an arm raised

over his head.

.

"Nein! Come back, Italy!" Germany yelled from somewhere in the bushes. I could not see him, but I knew it would not take me

long to find him if I just used my tank to blast apart the bushes. It works so much better that way, da?

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"Ok Germany!" Italy waved back. Aw so cute! I could not wait to see the look on his adorable little face when I blasted it apart.

And then Germany jumped out of the bushes with a gun aimed at my tank.

.

"Shoot him and I bring you down!" Germany shouted at me. I decided to humor him, just biding my time until I could go out

there and fight him face to face, because that is what a true fighter does, da?

.

"Will you really do that, Germany? Are you sure you want to?" I could not help but ask him. Playing mind games is my specialty!

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"Ja, I will! Now back off!"

.

"Now that is not very nice Germany, seeing as you are the one on my land and I am just extending a hand in welcome." I smiled

and he visibly shivered. Though he held his ground, which takes bravery (or foolishness, either way...).

.

"Does 'welcome' mean pointing a tank at someone? Because where I come from that is a threat. Is it different in Russia?"

Germany shot back at me. Not literally of course or I would have had to fire back, but verbally.

.

"Actually we greet people with a kiss. But since I am kind I did not think you would want a kiss so I brought a tank instead. You

like, da?" I flourished my hands at my beautiful tank. Italy had said nothing this whole time. In fact, he was too quiet, but I was

too preoccupied with Germany, who I believed at the time was the biggest threat, to notice.

.

"Ja, I suppose that _is _better than a kiss." Germany replied thoughtfully and then his eyes wandered over to Italy. When I looked

over, I realized that Italy was cradling a bomb.

.

"Italy you dummkopf (um, spelled correctly, da? Please correct me if I am wrong)! Mein Gott we need to get out of here that

thing is rigged to explode!" Germany grabbed Italy and started to run. Without even thinking, I ran after them. After all a bomb is

a bomb no matter what country made it. Of course my bombs always make more damage, but I suppose Germany's bombs are

almost as deadly.

.

I looked back and saw the giant fireball bursting in an array of very pretty colors. And that is when I remember my tank.

.

"Ok. You may come onto my land, you may insult me, you may threaten to kill me. That kind of stuff I can deal with, I am used to it. However, when you

destroy my new toys, your death with be inevitable. So I suggest you start running now before I take out my pipe and beat your faces in." I threatened

them. "I honestly think it will be an improvement though so why not stick around, da?"

.

"Eh...Germany let's go!" Italy cried and started tugging on Germany's arm.

.

"Kolkolkolkol." Da, that _is_ the sound I make when I get angry...it is, um, a long story on why I do that. Let me just say it has to do with Prussia and a feud

that happened a long time ago (it still seems to go on today though...I do not like Prussia at all).

.

"For once, I agree with you, Italy," Germany grabbed Italy and they both ran like their lives depended on it. Well, technically their lives _did_ depend on it

because I would have done something that I might live to regret (probably not though).

.

"Dude, that was epic." America popped out from behind a tree. Oh yes, did I forget to tell you that America was "hanging out" with me for a few days so we

could discuss strategy? Well, it was more along the lines of "You send me your troops and weapons and I will be the hero, da?", America said that of course. I

am ashamed to admit (actually I am not really _that_ ashamed) that I had hoped he had blown up with my tank, but no such luck. Plus we were allies so I

suppose it would have been bad if he died on my land.

.

"They ran like freaking babies! Woot! Go Allies!" America shouted proudly and raised his fist into the air. And then, to my utter amusement, he did his so

called "victory dance". Basically he danced in a circle that he called a "cha-cha" and he sang his national anthem. Honestly I do not really get Americans.

Can someone maybe help me understand why Americans have such strange styles of dancing? Perhaps I will try it some time because apparently it is quite

fun, da? Ah google, it might become my friend some day, and it might even become one with me, but today it has failed me. What in the heck is the Cha-Cha

Slide?

.

.

.

Ah...da. I forgot to add something that I promised someone. In yesterday's meeting, America came up with an idea for the issues in the middle east. You

know, trying to keep people from killing each other. Stuff like that. So his idea involved a robot, a cat, and him (naturally). From a safe location he would pilot a robot that

would swoop in to keep everyone calm. And then it was supposed to deploy kittens or something along those lines, apparently kittens are calming. Japan agreed with

America's idea, but Greece got on America's case about him abusing cats. After that I just decided to leave, it honestly was not worth staying to listen to an arguement over

kittens that were supposed to be used as neutralizing devices...in that kind of situation force is neccessary to keep the peace and I am certain that Switzerland would agree

with me. I stayed long enough to hear Britain shouting at America for being a "git", "moron", "kitten hating yank", and a whole bunch of other names that should definately

not be posted on this site for fear of offending Americans.

^.^ Dobryy den'! And have a great day!


End file.
